


Mystrade Prompt Challenge 2018

by Papa_Lazarou



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Greg Lestrade - Freeform, M/M, Mycroft Holmes - Freeform, PWP, handjob, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papa_Lazarou/pseuds/Papa_Lazarou
Summary: (Hopefully) 31 short Mystrade drabbles for the October Mystrade Challenge. (Hopefully) 31 short stories looking into the life of everyone’s favourite British Government and Detective Inspector.Not betaed. Tags subject to change and added to.





	1. 1- This Shouldn’t Be Happening

**Author's Note:**

> Today’s prompt is: “this shouldn’t be happening”, set in Autumn, and using the word ‘grip’.   
> NSFW chapter.

Greg thought they were too old. Mycroft thought they were too old. Yet there they were, in the middle of a clearing, a picnic blanket beneath them but no picnic. In fact, below Greg with a very sweaty Mycroft.

  
If his sole thoughts weren’t on the handsome man below him, Greg would have thought it was a beautiful day, orange and brown leaves covering the floor, leaving tuffs of green grass standing up. But as it was Mycroft’s beauty eclipsed the landscape.

  
Greg pulled away from a heated kiss, panting, his cock swelled in his pants and he wanted more than anything to free it.

  
“Are you sure you what this?” Greg asked, his breath tickling Mycroft’s lip.

  
In lieu of a response, Mycroft grabbed Greg’s hair and pulled him down, giving him a bruising kiss. Greg whimpered before biting Mycroft’s lip, taking back control. He nibbled down Mycroft’s jaw, reaching the point that joined his jaw and his neck and gave it a broad lick. Mycroft moaned, twisting his head to give Greg better access.

  
“This is ridiculous. This shouldn’t be happening. We’ve too old.” Mycroft chuckled. Greg pulled away so he could look at the man he loved, trying to keep the sadness from his eyes. He took Mycroft’s chin and turned his head to look at him. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He commented, more of an order than a request.

  
Greg didn’t have to be told twice, he shuffled down his lover’s body and quickly undid his trousers, pulling out his cock and stared for a moment, taking in the sight before him.

  
“I will never tire of seeing you like this.” Greg murmured as he kissed the tip of Mycroft’s cock.

  
“Gregory.” Mycroft whined.

  
Greg kissed Mycroft’s cock a few more times, enjoying the whines and begs he got from Mycroft. Eventually he moved back up, kissed Mycroft passionately, their tongues colliding and fighting for dominance.

  
“Gregory.” Mycroft whined again, his cock red and throbbing. “Please, just grab it. I need pressure on it. Please!” He begged, loudly, not caring for the birds that squawked and flew away.

  
But Greg did. If someone saw the birds all suddenly leave and area, they may get curious and investigate. And he didn’t want anyone investigating their fun. He bundled Mycroft’s ever-present tie up and pushed it roughly into Mycroft’s mouth.

  
“Bite down. Not a word from you.” He ordered. Greg moved his hand back down as Mycroft held his tie in his teeth, the soft silk feeling pleasant against his swollen, red lips. Greg wrapped his rough fingers around Mycroft’s cock and started to pull up. Greg quickly found his rhythm, pulling at Mycroft’s cock, a little twist in the wrist as he pulled up, made Mycroft arch his back and clench his jaw tightly around the makeshift gag. Every other time, Greg drew up he swiped his thumb over the tip of Mycroft’s cock, collecting the precum and using it as lube.

  
All too soon, for Mycroft’s liking, he was coming. His warm thick seed covering Greg’s hand, and his suit, turning it from a deep blue to white. Greg smiled and rolled to the side, pulling Mycroft close into his chest and holding him through his orgasm.

  
“You’re beautiful. So beautiful and needy and wanton. I love you Mycroft.” Greg murmured after a long while, and pulled Mycroft’s soddened tie out of mouth and laid it flat against his chest 

  
Mycroft smiled, his mind still unable to form words, he pushed further into Greg, a small shiver running down his body from the fresh breeze on his bare arse.   
Greg chuckled, and squeezed Mycroft lightly.

“Come on then Mycroft, lets get you home and in front of a warm fire, you deserve it.”


	2. You’re Full of Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second day of the Mystrade prompts. Today the prompts were: “you’re full of surprises.” On a Sunday and including the word ‘private’.   
> I hope you enjoy.

Greg sighed as he pulled the final box towards him. He was sat on the bed, their bed. Finally, moving into Mycroft’s house, their house. He leaned down and frowned, he was certain that the tape had been put on it. He ripped into the box, hoping that something hadn’t been stolen. All his socks and pants were in there. All his toiletries and his towels were there but it was definitely lighter. He pulled all his things out and came to the bottom of the box. No that wasn’t right, he had put another small box in there. He couldn’t loose it. Beside his new partner it was the most precious thing in his life. He scrabbled on the bed, frantic of finding it. He searched under the bed, in the wardrobe, in the bathroom. But the small black box was nowhere to be found. He dropped his head into his hands and was surprised to find tears.

  
He wiped the wetness away before leaving the bedroom, wanting comfort from Mycroft.

  
——  
Mycroft had decided to help Greg that morning, he pulled a box towards him and ripped off the tape. As he pulled out Greg’s underwear, thankful that they were clean, his fingers brushed against something cold and hard and metal. He pulled it out carefully. It looked like a jewellery box, but Mycroft knew that wasn’t the case, first of all it was black and it had _Annie Lestrade_ flourishly painted on top. He quickly put the rest of Greg’s stuff back in the box, not wanting Greg to find out what he was doing.

  
Back in the safety of his office, Mycroft sat down and placed the box on the table in front of him. He opened the lid and was surprised to find it velvet cushioned. But he wasn’t as surprised as to the content.

  
——  
Greg knocked on Mycroft’s closed office door, knowing better than to barge in, especially if he was on the phone.

  
“Come on in Greg.” Mycroft said softly.   
Greg was relieved to hear Mycroft voice and opened the heavy door, with a sniffle. He didn’t look around Mycroft’s office, instead he went over to Mycroft and held him tightly, pushing his head into Mycroft’s shoulder.

  
“Hey love, what’s brought this on?” Mycroft asked as he wrapped his arms around his unset lover. He pulled at Greg gently until he was sat on Mycroft’s lap.

  
“I’ve lost something. In moving, it’s the most important thing that I owned.” Greg said as he started to cry, not caring that he was wetting Mycroft’s suit.

  
But Mycroft did care, he gently took Greg’s chin in his fingers and tilted his face to look at him. “What is it that you’ve lost? I’m sure we can get you another one.” He said softly.

  
Greg shook his head. “It’s a small black box, metal. But... it’s what’s inside that matters. I can’t replace what’s inside.”

  
Mycroft couldn’t help but flick his eyes to look at the lost metal box sat on his desk. He hoped Greg wouldn’t see Mycroft and look at it but his wish went unanswered. Greg turned around and saw the box, instantly picking it up and holding it in his arms, cradling it to his chest. Slowly he pieced together what had happened.

  
Mycroft chuckled nervously, “You’re full of surprises, love.”

  
Greg narrowed his eyes and stared at Mycroft. “This is private Mycroft. What were you thinking, taking it? Did you look inside?” Greg asked, hurt.

  
Mycroft couldn’t lie to Greg, he nodded, sadly. “Who- Who was she?” He asked quietly, not looking Greg in his eyes.

  
“She _is_ my daughter. I have no custody over her. My ex lied and now I’m not allowed to see my own daughter.” Greg said, get angry before taking a deep breath. “This is all I have of her. A couple of pictures, an old onesie and her first dummy.” He murmured, not putting the box down.

  
Mycroft stepped up and wrapped his arms around Greg, the corner of the box poking into his chest, but he didn’t mind. “I’m sorry I looked, I was going to help you unpack. But then I saw this and I was confused. I’m sorry, there’s no excuse for looking at your private stuff.”

  
Greg nodded and rested his head against the wet patch of Mycroft’s suit that he had made. “It’s okay. I would have told you about her eventually, I just didn’t want you to think that I came with... any baggage.”

  
Mycroft chuckled, “I love you, Greg.”


	3. You are Utterly Impossible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 of Mystrafe Fictober is up. But of Drabble inspired by the heatwave Britain had in the summer.   
> Must include the phrase “You are utterly impossible.” Set as the sun sets. And includes the word ‘clothing’.

  
It was nine o’clock in the evening. It was suppose to be cold. Instead Greg was sat in his boxer shorts, sweat cooling his overheated body. He had barely moved all day, only getting up to get more ice cold beers or ice creams for himself and Mycroft. Mycroft. Greg looked over the love of his life and felt himself sweat more. Mycroft was in his three piece suit, shoes fastened tightly around his feet and calmly reading a book.

  
“How do you do it My?” Greg asked suddenly.

  
Mycroft snapped the book shut and turned to face Greg. “How do I do what, exactly?” He asked, coolly.

  
“How do you have all that clothing on in all this heat?”

  
“Oh Gregory, temperature is something you control.” Mycroft replied softly.

  
“Not when it comes from a great ball of fire and it feels like three hundred degrees out here.” Greg reported quickly.

  
“It is a reasonable twenty-two degrees Celsius, Gregory. I have been in hotter places than this having to work.”

  
“It’s too hot.”

  
“You’re more than welcome to go inside, in front of a fan.” Mycroft suggested.

  
“You are utterly impossible, you know that right?” Greg huffed.

  
Greg stood up, the back of his legs peeling away from the deckchair, he grabbed his now-warm beer and headed inside to sit in front of a fan. A few moments later, Greg heard the unmistakable sound of posh shoes hitting the floor as they were being taken off. Greg turned to look at Mycroft, a broad I-knew-something-you-didn’t smile on his lips before seeing his partner. His face dropped and he stood up, going over to Mycroft.

  
“Hey dearie, what’s a matter?” Greg asked softly, placing his palms on Mycroft’s biceps.

  
“It’s too hot.” Mycroft muttered, sadly. “I may be able to deal with the heat, but it doesn’t mean it’s nice.”

  
Greg hummed, biting his tongue to stop himself telling Mycroft that he told him so. “Come on dear, lets get you out of all these clothes, you’ll feel better in something lighter.” Greg said taking Mycroft’s hand and leading him upstairs.

  
Greg led Mycroft upstairs and sat him down on the bed, before starting to undress him. Once naked, Greg fetched a cold wet flannel and handed it to Mycroft.

  
“Wipe this where you’re the sweatiest, whilst I get you something to wear.” Greg said softly.

  
Mycroft took the flannel with an appreciative hum and started to cool down his neck and armpits, slowly wiping down his body. Greg started searching through Mycroft’s pristine clothes, annoyed that all his clothes were thick and warm. Greg moved onto his clothes and pulled out a large thin vest with his police academy logo on the chest. He grabbed a pair of his boxer shorts and handed them to Mycroft.

  
“They won’t be fitted but they’re thinner.” Greg smiled.

  
Mycroft took the clothes without comment and threw them on. He felt like a schoolgirl wearing Greg’s clothes, but they were modest as well as cool. “Do I look stupid?” He asked softly.

  
Greg shook his head, licking his lower lip. “God no My, you look sexy.” Greg leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to Mycroft’s, closing his eyes and humming softly.


End file.
